Maybe it was his imagination, but the hand still on his shoulder seemed to slide down his arm and give a tiny squeeze on his bicep before dropping off. His entire chest and arm felt like an overheated engine. It would not surprise him to see steam coming off any part of his body, but the parts that she had touched seemed especially combustive.
The weight on his foot disappeared. She bent and picked up the shoe that she had lost. He shifted so he stood in front of his computer screen, just in case that earlier, small suspicion proved correct. He crossed his arms over his chest, hoping her scent lingered in his office indefinitely. It was more than a little unbelievable there was any woman in his office, let alone Kelly. The farthest he’d ever thought was he might someday say hi to her. Today he’d touched her, memorized her scent, and if his stupid tongue would cooperate, he might even have a conversation with her. But it hung in his mouth, completely unconnected to his brain, while slow seconds ticked by.
“I’m awfully sorry about that,” Kelly said after an uncharacteristic silence. She didn’t look at him. Instead, she examined the sandal in her hand. The little, spiky heel hung at a crazy angle. “I suppose you’re wondering what I was doing.”
A little. More of his brainpower had been spent on wondering how to keep her in his office, how to have an actual conversation with her. And mostly wondering if she actually caressed his shoulder and bicep or if that were just his imagination. Why else would it be burning?
Kelly reached over and slapped her sandal against his desk. The faulty heel snapped off. The screen saver on his computer disappeared.
“Tough?” His landlord, Mr. Millard, walked into the office.
Tough jerked his head in greeting.
“I got your message...oh.” He looked at Kelly. “I’m sorry.” His confused gaze widened as he took in Kelly’s bare feet. His cheeks reddened. Tough glanced down, and his own face heated. The long, flowing material of Kelly’s dress had somehow gotten caught, and one long, tanned leg was completely exposed up to mid-thigh. Nothing more than he might see if she were wearing shorts, but it sure gave the appearance that something had been happening. Which was pretty obviously what Mr. Millard thought.
Mr. Millard wiggled his brows as his gaze went back to Tough. Tough shook his head, but Mr. Millard ignored him and grinned. “Don’t usually see people in Tough’s office.” He held his hand out to Kelly. “I’m Jack Millard, Tough’s landlord.”
Kelly’s bracelets clanked together as she stretched out her hand and shook his. Apparently, she’d been so focused on getting her shoe fixed that she hadn’t noticed her dress situation. Tough considered himself pretty good at fixing stuff, but he had no idea how to fix this. Grab her dress and yank it? Telling her about it was completely out of the question. He wouldn’t be able to get the word “leg” out of his mouth. He could point. But that might embarrass her.
“I’m Kelly Irwin. I think I may have just left you a message.” Kelly finished shaking Mr. Millard’s hand and braced herself on Tough’s desk, lifting her foot and slipping her sandal back on. Her gaze hooked on his computer. There wasn’t enough room for Tough to slip between her and his desk, so he did the only thing he could think of. He reached over and snapped the monitor off. It wasn’t inconspicuous, but it got rid of the evidence. For now.
Kelly’s eyes flicked to his. They narrowed. Tough didn’t even bother to angle his face to hide the tic that fluttered his left eye. If she figured out the connection between him and what was on his computer screen, the gig was up.
Mr. Millard looked up from his phone. “This is your number?” He read it off.
Kelly nodded.
Mr. Millard glanced between Tough and Kelly. He seemed to sense that something wasn’t quite right. Or that there was more going on. His gaze touched on Kelly’s exposed leg before moving to Tough then back to Kelly. “I’d love to see Tough get a good neighbor, and you seem like a nice girl. The other side is yours if you want it.” He quoted the amount needed, and Kelly nodded easily.
Tough’s mouth opened. Kelly wanted to rent the other side? That was his. His jaw clenched. He’d been saving for the first and last months’ rent, plus the deposit and the money it would take to remodel. He almost had it. Another week. He’d just texted that to Mr. Millard this morning. Forcing himself to relax—the place would be going to a good cause—he forced his teeth to quit grinding together.
Mr. Millard grinned and winked at Kelly. “I think your boyfriend here wanted to surprise you with it.”
“No,” Tough ground out.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Kelly said at the same time. “I’m engaged.” She held up her ring finger where a rock the size of a 6NZ motor caught the fluorescent lights and glowed yellowish.
Mr. Millard dropped his gaze to her leg and stared. “Maybe you let the wrong guy put that piece of gravel on your hand.”
Kelly’s gaze followed his. She gasped and swatted at her dress until it fell back into place where it belonged. “That was not...I...” She seemed to realize that she couldn’t say exactly what happened, because after all, she had been technically trespassing on Mr. Millard’s property.
Tough wanted to say he hadn’t touched her, but that was technically not true, either. He hadn’t lifted her dress up. At least not on purpose, if it had been something he did. He couldn’t remember, didn’t think it was him, but there had been a lot of flying limbs and material and hair and everything smelled so good, he couldn’t really say for sure, even if he could get his mouth to work, which was doubtful.
Mr. Millard held his hands up. “Whatever. I’m not here to judge, and as long as I get my rent check, I don’t care what hanky-panky you two are up to, although not many people surprise me, but Tough just did.” The shrewd look he sent Tough’s way made Tough want to step in front of his computer, even though he’d already switched the screen off. There was no way he could give Kelly everything she deserved, and he’d never ask her to be with him otherwise. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t something else he was hiding. He locked his knees to keep his foot from digging a toe in the cement floor.
Mr. Millard continued, “Obviously with a ring that size, the other guy’s got money. I don’t care, but Tough’s a solid guy. He might not have the cash, but at least he’ll never nag or insult you.” Mr. Millard laughed at his joke.
Tough didn’t look to see how Kelly took Mr. Millard’s “humor.” Wasn’t the first time other people had laughed at his struggle or made jokes about it. Normally he didn’t care, but he did kind of want to look good to Kelly, since she looked so good to him, even if he wasn’t in contention for the position of being her man. Still, the small planet on her hand was a good reminder. It didn’t really matter what she thought of him; she’d made a promise with another guy. Tough was old-school about promises.
Mr. Hormell hobbled into sight in the doorway. Talk about promises. He needed to get that man’s car done by midnight. And he needed to take him to a hotel and get Kelly to the center before he could start. There wasn’t time for him to stand around in his office, wishing the woman in it was his.
He’d come in here to begin with for his keys. He remembered dropping them. Searching the floor, he saw them lying between Kelly’s feet. Figures.
Great. He couldn’t pick them up. After all, he’d need to say “excuse me,” and on a normal day, he might be able to get that out, but today was anything but normal. Then a rogue thought brought him up short. Why not? After all, she’d caressed his shoulder and bicep. He was sure of it. He could pick his keys up from between her feet.
He’d had a crummy childhood, yes. His dad had stuck around long enough to make four kids, saddle them with ridiculous names they were sure to be teased about for the rest of their lives, then he’d split, never to be heard from again. His mom had died of cancer not long after he’d started elementary school, and he and his brothers had gone to live with his gram, subsiding on social security and lots of home-canned food.
Still, he’d made one pr
omise to his mother before she died—that he wouldn’t be a womanizer like his dad—and he had every single intention in the world of keeping that promise. He’d walked the line. More than walked the line, he’d avoided even looking at the line from that time on. But today, for some reason, the devil was on his shoulder, and he couldn’t shake him. So, ignoring the other people in the room, he turned his back to them and bent down to pick up his keys, trailing a finger over the soft skin and delicately sculpted bones of Kelly’s ankle for one second before he stood back up.
Chapter 4
Kelly stroked the curly head of the young girl who had just wrapped her arms around Kelly’s waist and started to cry. Normally Jasmine was a precocious and sweet nine-year-old. But today she’d been sullen and depressed. Kelly had watched her for the past couple of hours, then, when Harris Winsted, the librarian in town and frequent volunteer at the children’s center, had come in to read to the younger children, Kelly had taken Jasmine aside.
A few questions later, Jasmine’s eyes had filled and she’d thrown her arms around Kelly, holding on like Kelly was the only solid thing in her world. Which, really, she was. Since Jasmine had just admitted that her parents were splitting.
“It’s okay to cry, sweetie.” Kelly’s heart felt like it was shedding big, painful tears, too. Jasmine had such a beautiful smile and a generous heart.
“Mommy said Daddy isn’t ever coming back.” Jasmine sniffed into Kelly’s shirt. “She said she hates him. And I said Daddy was good, and she said I was stupid to believe that.” She started crying again and buried her head against Kelly’s stomach.
Kelly squeezed Jasmine tighter, although what she really wanted to do was march over to Jasmine’s house, grab her mother by the hair, and tell her never to bad-mouth Jasmine’s father again.
She didn’t say anything but held Jasmine against her and let her cry. This was a problem, all too common, that she couldn’t fix. No amount of money could fix it, either. No government program. No breakfast program. No after-school program. Ugh.
Kelly stroked down Jasmine’s back while the little girl sobbed. Several of the older children, sitting at the round tables in the far corner, had gone through this very thing. Her gaze was drawn back to the younger children sitting haphazardly around Harris on the large rug beside the tables, listening to her read. Many of those children didn’t even have two parents at home. Of the ones who did, in Kelly’s experience, over half would be in Jasmine’s position someday.
She hadn’t seen Jasmine’s parents get married, but she’d bet they were smiling and happy and sharing their love with the world on that day. Half of all marriages ended in divorce. Yet, who ever heard of weddings where the bride and groom weren’t smiling and “in love”? But all that “love” didn’t keep their marriage together five or ten years later.
Jasmine’s sobs had turned into an occasional hiccup. In Kelly’s experience, and according to all the research she read, what just happened to Jasmine today would make her much more likely to hang out with the wrong friends. To drink alcohol. To do drugs. To drop out of school. To get pregnant as a teen. To have an abortion. To not go to college.
All because “love” wasn’t enough to hold her parents together.
The big diamond ring on her hand felt heavy. Cold. What about her impending marriage? At least Preston and she would have a marriage build on friendship and mutual respect. They knew they’d make a good match—he wanted to be a politician and she would be the perfect politician’s wife, while leaving plenty of time for her to focus on her charities, too.
But would that be enough? Did she love him enough? He said he loved her. She felt comfortable with him, even if there weren’t any sparks. He felt comfortable enough with her that he’d finish her sentences. Or even assume her answer. So, when he’d held the ring up and she’d gasped and said, “What an amazing ring!”, he’d grinned and slipped it on her hand, like that was a yes and her whole insides weren’t clenching in total panic.
Kelly pulled a tissue out of her purse and helped Jasmine wipe her eyes. “I can’t fix it, Jasmine. But I will always be here for you.”
Jasmine nodded. After a few minutes, she wandered away, going over to the study tables and sitting down with her older sister. Kelly’s heart broke a little more as her sister put an arm around her and pulled her close.
Gathering her things, Kelly walked over to the front door where they had a little kitchenette set up with a bar and stools along with a table and mismatched chairs. An old, yellow refrigerator was stocked with juice boxes and bottles of water. It was loud, but it kept things cold, so they put up with the noise.
Cassidy, her friend who was marrying Tough’s brother, wore an apron over her power suit—she was a lawyer by day. As Kelly approached, Cassidy leaned over and took a tray of cookies out of the oven.
“I found a new place for us to rent.” Kelly threw her purse on the counter and swiped a chocolate chip cookie baked in the shape of a dog’s head from the cooling rack beside the sink.
“Do you ever stop?” Cassidy asked. She untied the apron from around her waist and glanced at the group of kids sitting in a circle on the floor still listening to Harris reading a book.
“Can’t stop. There is so much that needs to be done and only a few people willing and able to do it.” Kelly took a bite of the cookie, glancing at Jasmine and her sister before she grabbed a stack of books that needed to be sorted and organized.
“Well, you are still planning on stopping, at least for an evening and the next afternoon, for my wedding. Right?” Cassidy tilted her head, her no-nonsense bun highlighting the sharp angles of her face.
A little shot of nervous excitement, like the feeling of cresting the highest hill of a rollercoaster, snapped through Kelly. Tough would be at the wedding too. Probably as a groomsman. “Of course.”
“Are you sure Preston isn’t going to make it?”
“I’m sure.” Kelly paused with a book in her hand. “He could never say no to being part of the delegation to Germany. This could be a defining moment in his career.”
Cassidy set the folded apron down. “He would hate it anyway. He won’t know anyone who’s going to be there, but I want you to have a good time.”
“I will.” Kelly smiled at her friend, shoving her earlier thoughts about the lasting power of love aside. After all, Torque and Cassidy were not exactly conventional. From the adoption of the children, to the casual wedding that had been planned in six weeks. It certainly wasn’t the big bash that Cassidy could afford.
Cassidy whistled as she scooped the last of the cookies off the tray. Kelly tilted her head. “I’ve never seen you this happy and relaxed. And that’s saying something considering you and Torque are starting married life by adopting three children.”
“I have no idea how I thought I’d be able to do it on my own. Torque is so good with them.” Cassidy put both hands on her lower back and stretched.
“He must have had a good dad.” Kelly pretended to be totally engrossed in deciding whether “Wonder” went into the pile for tweens or early teens, lest Cassidy realize that she was totally digging for info on Tough’s childhood. Not because she was interested in him, because as an engaged woman, she was not, but because she was naturally curious about what caused certain people to grow up to be productive members of society and some to...not. If she hadn’t majored in social work, she would have majored in psychology.
“No. Not even close. Come on, Kelly. What kind of parent names their child Torque?”
Not a normal one, for sure. If Cassidy were having a “normal” wedding, Kelly might have already met Tough. But Cassidy hadn’t wanted a shower, and they were doing the wedding and reception as minimally as possible. Cassidy had said there was too much suffering in the world for her to waste money on putting on a big show. Torque, as far as Kelly could tell, only wanted Cassidy and didn’t give a flip about the wedding.
“Doesn’t he have a brother with an odd name?” Kelly asked in what she
hoped was an offhand way.
“Yeah. Turbo.”
No, not that one. “Another?”
“He has two other brothers, and you seem awfully curious. Why?”
Kelly shut her mouth. Cassidy was right. The tingle in her leg from the brush of his fingers, the excitement she felt at the idea of seeing him next week at the wedding, the security he brought to her psyche when she thought about renting the space next to him...she shouldn’t be thinking of him at all. Let alone with such emotion. For some reason, she didn’t even want to mention that he was fixing her car, like even talking about him might make Cassidy suspicious that Kelly was thinking about him way more than she should be.
The kids yelled and cheered, causing both Cassidy and Kelly to look over. Harris had dismissed them from the circle where she’d been reading to them, and they had run to the half-court that filled the other side of the big building opposite the study tables. Two teenagers were helping organize them into teams for a game of basketball.
Harris gathered her things up, along with her book, and hurried over, her long skirt flowing around her legs.
“Have you girls seen the latest?” she asked before she threw her stuff on a stool and grabbed her phone from her bag.
“The latest?” Kelly asked.
Cassidy rolled her eyes then focused on watching her small twins, making sure they weren’t in the way of the kids who had started to dribble around the makeshift court. “The latest advice column. You know? The one plastered on billboards all over town?”
Kelly wrinkled her forehead. “Dr. T? The mechanic who only answers men’s love questions?”
“Yes,” Harris said with bright eyes before ducking her head and clicking on her phone again. “Ah!” she exclaimed. “Here it is!”
“I forgot today was Wednesday.” Cassidy shook her head, but she grinned and moved to where she could look over Harris’s shoulder.
Tough Talk Page 3
